


Academic Honesty Policy

by fightlikeagirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, because im monster, shamelessly self-indulgent AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 22:32:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightlikeagirl/pseuds/fightlikeagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's fully prepared to ignore whatever attraction he definitely, absolutely does not have to his professor. His professor's dick of a brother has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Academic Honesty Policy

And yeah, if Sam is being completely honest with himself, his professor is kinda hot. He's irritating and he's aggressively unprofessional. But Sam would be lying if he said he hadn't imagined what that mouth would look like stretched around his cock, and so when his professor suggests that he stop by his office later to go over some things he's not sure he got in the last lecture, he's not going to turn it down. And if he's entertained thoughts about bending him over and kissing the obnoxious smirk off his face and ripping off the green utility jacket he always wears in lieu of more professional attire, it doesn't mean anything.

So, okay. He's hot for teacher. Whatever. It still doesn't mean anything.

"Sasquatch!" Professor Milton says, trotting into his office, and there's another one of those _stupid_ nicknames, it's like the guy thinks he's competing for some sort of Least Professional award. "I got held up in a meeting, hope I didn't keep you waiting."

There's a twinkle in his eye that makes Sam privately suspect that he wasn't held up at all, he's just doing this to dick with him. "It's fine," he says instead. "So I had some questions about the notes we went over on Tuesday..."

And for all that Professor Milton seems determined to act as irresponsible as possible, he does know what he's doing. The meeting goes well, even if Sam occasionally has to hurriedly think unsexy thoughts when he sucks on the end of his pen in a way that's entirely unfair to anyone who's already having a hard enough time not staring glazedly at his mouth.

"Shit," his teacher says, half-way through, rummaging through his bag. "I have some papers I wanted to show you, but I must've left them in my car. You mind if I do a quick dash out to the parking lot for them?"

"Sure," Sam says, a bit distractedly. He does not have the hots for his professor. He absolutely does not, because that would be stupid and inappropriate and could damage his standing in the class, which is not going to happen. 

He's interrupted from his thoughts by a blonde man striding through the office door without knocking.

"Gabriel, I tried your phone three times and you're not picking up _again_ —" he begins, and notices Sam. "Oh. Hello." His blue eyes scrutinize Sam, and he feels very uncomfortable all of a sudden. "And who might you be?"

"Um," Sam squeaks, clears his throat, and tries again. "I'm Sam." He's blushing, and he doesn't know why. "Sam Winchester."

The blonde man cocks his head, studying him. "You're one of my brother's students."

"Um. I guess," Sam says. "I didn't know Professor Milton had a brother."

The man laughs, smiling like it's an uproariously funny joke that Sam just doesn't get. "I doubt he talks about our family much. We're half-brothers, really, but he's the only one from the family I still talk to." He's still staring at Sam—not staring, watching, observing, like he's some particularly fascinating science experiment that might bubble and froth up at any moment. "I'm Lucifer, by the way." He holds out a hand, and it takes Sam a moment to remember what to do with it.

"Nice to meet you," he says, voice still a bit breathy. Lucifer's grip is firm and confident, and his palms are cool and dry. His hands are flecked with chemical burns, and Sam wonders if he's a scientist, too.

Lucifer smiles. "It was a _pleasure_ meeting you, Sam. Tell Gabriel I stopped by, will you?" And he sweeps out. Sam stares out the door after him for a minute, trying to figure out if that had really just happened, or if it was all in his head.

His professor walks back in not five minutes later, clutching a sheaf of papers triumphantly. "Sorry about that. Anyway, where were we?"

"Uh," Sam says, trying to gather his thoughts. He's not equipped to deal with this, not mere minutes after being accosted by an unfairly attractive stranger. "Sorry. Your brother was looking for you?"

Professor Milton sighs melodramatically. "Yeah, I know, he sent me like eight texts. Sometimes I think he forgets that I'm actually capable tying my own shoelaces without him. Brothers, am I right?"

"Yeah," Sam says, a little distantly. "He said you were half-brothers."

His professor nods. "Different mothers. We weren't really that close growing up—the age difference, you know. And then our dad kicked him out, and you know how it goes. We only really reconnected when Dad died, and we had to deal with the estate. Ended up with more money than either of us knew what to do with, so we moved to Palo Alto and bought a house together—close to Stanford, you know." He frowns, suddenly. "Don't let him corrupt you. He's a dreadful influence. If he ever comes in again, just tell him I told you not to talk to him."

Sam smiles. "Right. Anyway, about the midterm..."

\--

He manages to forget about the encounter for the next couple of weeks, while his world becomes a blur of midterms and locking himself in his dorm to study. He meets with Professor Milton a few more times, and he tells himself that he does need the help, that he's not just making excuses to see him one-on-one. Sometimes, once they've established that he doesn't actually need help on the assignment, he'll just stay there, doing his homework in his professor's office, occasionally glancing up if he has a question. He's still as cheerfully irresponsible as ever, but for some reason Sam's starting to find it more endearing than irritating. And when he makes the occasional (okay, less than occasional) dirty joke (often at Sam's expense), he'd like to think it's a sign of affection, and not just more of his irreverent personality showing through.

Okay. So Dean is right. He needs to get laid.

Still, though. He's managing, and he manages just fine right up until he's in Professor Milton's office again to go over an assignment. His teacher ducks out to grab something he left in another classroom, and right on cue Lucifer saunters in.

"Hello, Sam," he says pleasantly, smiling like he's thinking of some private joke.

"Um," Sam says, and his brain seems to have shut down. "Hi."

"Gabriel's not in, I take it?" He leans against the doorframe, looking unreasonably sexy, and Sam is absolutely not entertaining these thoughts any longer.

"No," he says, because apparently he can't talk in anything more than one-syllable words.

Instead of leaving, Lucifer ambles over to the desk, leaning over Sam's shoulder to look at the assignment he's been working on. "Gabriel's not working you too hard, I hope?"

His breath is hot against Sam's ear. He thinks he might be being hit on.

"No," he says, "the work's fine." He's pretty sure he's blushing again, _goddamn it_.

Lucifer draws back to look at him. "Am I making you nervous, Sam?"

"Um," he says again. "Professor Milton told me not to talk to you."

Lucifer throws his head back and laughs, a full-throated sound of amusement that makes Sam's stomach flip. "Did he, now."

"He said you were a corrupting influence."

Lucifer smirks at that, and Sam blushes further. "He's right, you know. You shouldn't talk to me. I'm not a good influence." He trails his hand across Sam's neck as he turns to leave, and _yep_ , definitely being hit on. "You've used the wrong formula there, by the way—it should be a sine, not a cosine."

He's right. Goddamn it.

\--

The next time Sam visits Professor Milton, there are voices coming from inside, and he pauses just outside the door. He doesn't mean to eavesdrop but—well, the door's ajar, and it's not like he can exactly help it.

"...my student, Lucifer, don't even think..."

A low chuckle.

"Whatever you're thinking, stop it. You're not..."

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

"He's my _student_ , you ass, I'm not going to take advantage like that."

"He wants you. You can see it, can't you?"

A pause.

"Don't be absurd."

"Do you think you're what he thinks about when he touches himself at night? Do you think he jerks off in the shower, imagining it's your hands on his cock?"

"Stop it." The tone is sharp.

"I'll bet he has all sorts of fantasies about you bending him over your desk, fucking him until he can barely walk straight. He probably likes it rough, too—"

"Lucifer, _stop it_."

"Are you saying you don't want him? If you're not interested, I'd be glad to give him some—extra tutoring. I wouldn't even mind if he screamed your name when he came." There's a pause. "Besides, we could always share."

"Don't be a sleaze. Don't you have some lab write-ups to get back to?"

"They can wait. You have a meeting with him later, don't you? I wouldn't mind seeing him again. He always gets so flustered when I'm around, it's adorable."

"Alright, you're leaving. And stay _away_ from him, Lucifer."

The door opens, and Sam has to quickly look nonchalant as Professor Milton shoos Lucifer out. Lucifer looks horribly pleased to see him.

"Why Sam," he purrs, "we were just talking about you."

Sam blushes a deep red, and Lucifer looks, if possible, even more pleased with himself.

"Out!" Professor Milton says, making a warding sign with his fingers. Sam can't quite bring himself to meet his eye.

\--

As if aware that his brother has been basically stalking Sam, Professor Milton carefully avoids leaving him alone in his office after that. Part of him feels almost disappointed, but he tells himself that that's the end of it. No more weird encounters. And there aren't.

Until Sam's at the sports bar he likes to visit on Saturday evenings, watching Stanford trounce Cal, and Lucifer slides into the seat next to him.

"Sam," he says, with obviously faked surprise, "fancy seeing you here."

His stomach flips over. There's definitely something borderline creepy about this, the way Lucifer just turns up wherever he is. He doesn't know whether the jumpy feeling in his stomach is fear or arousal. "Hi," he says. He feels uncomfortable as ever with Lucifer watching him. Like he's being studied.

Lucifer gazes at him for another moment, like he's waiting for something, and Sam has to look away.

"Sam," he says, then pauses. And then he reaches forward, catches Sam's jaw in a delicate but firm grasp, and kisses him, hard. His breath comes in shallow little gasps when Lucifer finally pulls away.

"I," Sam stutters, "erm. Um." He's blushing again. He would wonder if anyone had seen them, but he knows no one's going to be taking their eyes off the TV screen any time soon, not with the Big Game on.

Lucifer's studying him again, lips curving up in a smile. "You are just too perfect," he tells Sam. "My brother doesn't appreciate you. But I do." He licks his lips, and Sam's eyes follow the motion. "Come home with me."

He's nodding without thinking about it. He doesn't think he could say no to anything that came out of that mouth, and it's not really a request, anyway.

It's not until Lucifer's parking the car and unlocking the front door that Sam remembers that he and Professor Milton live together. He balks in the entranceway, and Lucifer gives him a look, pulling him in for another bruising kiss.

"Afraid Gabriel will hear?" he murmurs into Sam's mouth. "Don't you want to make him a little jealous?"

His face heats up. "I'm not—"

Lucifer shushes him gently, pressing a thumb against his lips. "Don't you worry your little head, Sam, he's busy at the office. This is just you and me." There's a gleam of something Sam can't quite identify in his eyes, something dark and hungry. Sam parts his lips, and Lucifer's thumb slips inside, his eyes going bright with want as Sam slides his tongue across it.

He groans at that, hand going to the tenting fabric at Sam's groin. His hand whispers across it, and Sam whines, head tipping back against the wall and hips thrusting forward reflexively. "Jesus."

He doesn't know what he's doing. God, he's in so far over his head. He knows he's going to end up regretting all this in the morning, but for now—for now, it's all he can do not to melt at the hands sliding his overshirt down his arms, then pushing his t-shirt up and over his head. And then the hands are on his skin, fingers pinching and rolling a nipple, making him squirm and gasp. Lucifer's fingers trail down his chest, teasingly slow, finally finding his waistband and unbuttoning his jeans. He sucks in a breath when he feels his zipper being undone, head banging back against the wall.

"Fuck."

Lucifer tugs his jeans and underwear down his hips in one quick yank, fingers digging into his hips hard enough to bruise.

"Mmmm, Sammy," he murmurs appreciatively. "Gabriel doesn't know what he's missing, does he?" Lucifer's own arousal is a hot, clear line, against Sam's thigh, and he doesn't know whether he's reassured that this isn't just some weird power play, or concerned that it's still a weird power play that Lucifer is getting off on.

There's a noise to his right, from the door, and he doesn't have time to process it before Lucifer is pinning his wrists above his head with surprising strength, leaning in to nip at his collarbone. And this is the distinctly compromising position that they're in when Professor Milton walks in.

Lucifer presses a soft kiss to his lips before turning to look at his brother, hands still pinning Sam's wrists in place. "Gabriel." His tone is mostly neutral, but there's a hint of triumph in it. "Home early, are you?"

Sam's cheeks are burning, but he doesn't fight Lucifer's grip.

"Lucifer," his professor says. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Lucifer says softly. "I'm taking what I want. Like you could be doing."

Professor Milton's eyebrows narrow. "Don't do this. Not with Sam. He doesn't deserve this. Go find some co-ed to screw around with."

"He wants this, Gabriel," Lucifer says. And it's true, he's still painfully, shamefully hard. He still can't meet his teacher's eyes. Lucifer gives him a quick look before unwrapping one hand from around his wrists, lowering it to curl around the soft skin of Sam's waist. "Besides," he purrs, "he's so much more interesting than any co-ed."

Sam kind of wishes they wouldn't talk about him like he's not there.

Lucifer kisses him, hard, and there's a soft intake of breath from his professor. "Have you reconsidered?" Lucifer asks. "I'm sure we could find a way to share." And again, with the acting like he's not there, like he's some sort of toy they're fighting over. The thought definitely does not turn him on further.

The noise Professor Milton makes is frustrated. "Stop trying to make me take advantage of him," he says. "He's my student."

Lucifer smiles. "Perhaps you should ask Sam what he thinks about that." He leans in, lips against Sam's ear, speaking just loud enough for Professor Milton to hear it if he leans in. "How about it, Sammy? You ever thought about Gabriel fucking you? What it'd be like, on your knees, sucking his cock? Be honest, Sam. Is that what you want?"

He gives a short, jerky nod, finally looking up. His professor's staring at him with something like a deep, burning want in his eyes.

"Sam." He's drifted closer, almost like it's an unconscious pull, and one hand rests on Sam's chest.

"He's not going to break, Gabriel." Lucifer's voice is amused. "And Sam likes it rough. Don't you, Sammy?"

He doesn't get a chance to answer, because then his professor—his _professor_ —is licking his way into his mouth, sucking on his lower lip, a fierce, burning kiss.

This is not what he'd been expecting when he'd signed up for Gabriel Milton's Intro to Maps course.

He pulls away briefly, eyes focused on Sam's. "Tell me this is what you want."

"Please." Sam's voice is rough. 

His professor nods. "Bedroom." Lucifer releases his wrists, guiding him down the hall with a hand on the small of his back, and oh _fuck_ , he's really doing this. He is in _so_ much trouble.

Pulling his professor's clothes off, one by one, is just as satisfying as he imagined it would be. He has to pause when he gets him down to red silk boxer shorts because—honestly, that's not something he'd imagined. He kneels down, Lucifer's hand in his hair, guiding him, trails his lips across the fabric. His professor gasps at that, fingers entwining with Lucifer's in his hair.

"Fuck, Sam—"

"Professor," he begins, and stops.

His professor groans. "Jesus, Sam, we're not at school. You don't have to remind me how many protocols I'm breaking."

Sam nods, hesitantly. "Gabriel." He leans in to lap at the dampening fabric, and is rewarded with a particularly wrecked-sounding noise. It's nice, somehow, to know that he can wring these sounds out of his teacher. He pulls back, and Lucifer is bending over and pulling him up, tongue slipping into his mouth, and God, the sound Gabriel makes at _that_.

Someone, Sam's not sure who, guides them to the bed, and he thanks God that one of them was forward-thinking enough to buy a bed large enough for three of them.

It's easy enough to tell the difference. Gabriel's hands are smaller, gentler, more hesitant. He's demanding enough, but he still touches like he thinks Sam might break if he touches too hard. Lucifer's more dominant, fingers digging into Sam hard enough that he's going to have bruises come morning, touching like Sam's a prize he's won. He takes, and he takes, but he gives enough of himself that it's hard to object. And it's Lucifer's slippery fingers that press into him first, a solid ache that feels alien and wrong, until he presses deeper, and then—Jesus. The sound he makes is probably one he's going to be embarrassed about later.

There's no elegance to it, no form. It's just a constant shock of skin on skin and _Jesus, yeah, just there, like that_. He's never done something like this before, and it's almost too much, the amount of attention they lavish on him. Gabriel licks up the side of his neck, pressing a biting kiss to the side of his jaw, and Lucifer trails small kisses along the insides of his thighs.

He thinks he should probably not be getting off, watching Lucifer stroke Gabriel's cock, listening to the sounds he makes. As if aware of the effect he's having on Sam, Lucifer glances up at him through his eyelashes, smirking when Sam's cheeks heat up. Gabriel sighs when Lucifer pulls him into a kiss, softer than any of the ones he lavishes on Sam. Sam groans, reaching down for his own hard dick, stroking it while Lucifer watches, appreciation dark in his eyes.

It doesn't take much more for him to unravel completely, spilling messily against the sheets. He's distantly aware of Gabriel pushing Lucifer back into the sheets next to him, thinking that if nothing else, they're at least working out some of their latent issues.

He hears Lucifer murmur, "Will this be on the test, Professor?" followed by Gabriel smacking him on the shoulder. "Don't be a dick," Gabriel whispers back. An arm curls around his waist, and someone presses a gentle kiss into his hair. "You've worn him out, poor thing," Lucifer says softly. Sam thinks about protesting, but decides it's easiest just to let this one be.

**Author's Note:**

> oh no i dont even know what happened here  
> i sat down with this and then suddenly it was three thousand words later and i realized i was a monster
> 
> sam's class is based on a class i'm taking because i hate it and now i have officially guaranteed that i can no longer look the teacher in the eye
> 
> UPDATE: some complete motherfucker on tumblr asked for a continuation of this fic which got WILDLY OUT OF HAND so i've been writing shorter ficlets that go in this verse and posting them on my tumblr  
> they can be found [HERE](http://cryptoshark.tumblr.com/tagged/dumb-college-AU-threesomes) if anyone is interested  
> probably i will eventually start crossposting them here but for the time being that is where they are


End file.
